High School Pyramid
by Kiroro2321
Summary: A prep learns after she she is knocked from the top of the pyramid to nearly the bottom, that she was wrong about certain people. . .


As I look into the buses review mirror, I meer _her_ eyes.  
She glanced at me for only a second, then smirks.  
Turning to the Jock in her seat, she laughs.  
She lightly patted his shoulder and all but yells;  
"Oh, Johnny! You're just soo funny!"  
As wanted, every student eye on the bus turned to look at her and Johnny.  
I glared at her from the front seat;  
'That bitch,' I thought, 'As soon as my dad gets done with my car, I can just drive to school.'  
Suddenly, my thoughts were interupted by giggles and intakes of breath.  
Driving down the lane next to ours, a motorcycle slowed at my window.  
I hadn't relized the bus had stopped.  
I gave the motorcycle and the man on it, a quick look over;  
The motorcycle was black with a flaming skull on the gas tank.  
The man on it was wearing a black outfit.  
His shirt was tight on him and showed off the hours he had spent in the gym.  
His jeans were also tight, but with chains and studs going down the side.  
As I was about to look at his helemet, a folded paper lands in his lap.

The boy looked straight at me.  
I felt awkard and ashamed of myself for him catching me staring.  
He pointed at me.  
I was confused at first, then understood that he was asking if I was the one who wrote the note.  
I shooke my head and pointed to a couple of giggling girls a few seats back.  
He glanced back, shacking his head.  
He unfolded the crumpled note, then grabbed a pen out of his back pocket.  
Quickly scribbling something on the note, he then glanced up at me.  
He pointed down.  
Down?  
I looked at him with what I hoped was a confused expression.  
Again, he shooke his head, in an agitated way.  
He lifted his hands slightly in the, a foot apart.  
Then, as if lowering something, he swept them downward.  
I slightly looked up.  
Oh! Put down the window!  
I reached up and lowered the window as far down as possible.  
He refolded the paper, then tosed it into my lap.  
I looked at the paper, then glanced at his bike as he drove away, past the intersection.

I glanced at the note, then glanced at the girl behind me.  
Unfolding the paper, I was a little upset at what it said.

**Hey there! I'm Natalie! What's your name?! Will you go to prom with me?! Please!  
Yes No (circle one)  
_Hell no Natalie! I don't date giggly, prepy girls!!  
To blondie- give this to Natalie. . ._**

Great. I'm no longer Heather but now I'm blondie?!  
What was this school coming to?!  
I turned to the waiting Natalie;  
"He said, and I quote 'Hell no Natalie! I don't date giggly, prepy girls!!'"  
Her face fell.

I tapped my pencil on my desk, watching the second hand on the clock tick closer and closer to the 12.  
Lunch.  
Although that bitch stole all my friends and my boyfriend, did not mean that she's ruler of this school!  
I still have something that she will _never_ steal from me: my pride.  
5. . .4. . .3. . .2. . .1!  
I grabbed all my books in a hurry, rushing out the door as the bell sounded through the halls.  
I rounded the corner then. . .BAM!  
My books flew into the air and hit the floor with a loud thud;  
"Hey! Watch what you're doing next time, Blondie!!"  
I looked up at the smart mouthed guy.  
It was the same guy from the motorcycle;  
"F.Y.I, my name's not Blondie!! It's Heather! Hea-ther!! You know, the most popular girl in the school?!"  
He looked at me as if I had just bashed him on the head with a rock;  
"F.Y.I, I frankly don't give a rats ass about your name, or how popular you are! All you are is just one of those braty girls that pitch a fit when she doesn't get her way!"  
I glared at him;  
"You should be ashamed of yourself!! Talking to a woman that way! The nerve! Why, I could hit you right now!"  
He looked at me with expectation in his eyes;  
"Go ahead. Hit me as hard as you possibly can. I dare you!"  
I looked into his eyes with astonishment;  
"I can't hit you!"  
He looked puzzeled;  
"Why not?"  
I looked at him like he was crazy;  
"Are you crazy?! If I hit you, you'd split me in half over your knee! I don't want _to die_!"  
Suddenly, he started to laugh;  
"What? What'd I say?"  
I was puzzeled. Why was he laughing?  
Was he laughing at me?! No, he couldn't be. . .  
Suddenly, I _knew _he was laughing at me.  
I became furious. What did I do that would make him laugh at me? And in _public?!_  
I raised my fist as his head was bent back, laughing.  
As his head started to come forward, I swung.  
My fist came in contact with something hard, then I heard a crunch.  
Then, I felt the pain.  
I pulled my hand close to my chest, trying to hold back tears;  
"Ow! You broke my hand! You asshole!"  
I looked at the guy, hoping he was on the floor, writhering in pain.  
He stood in front of me, glaring at me, holding his nose;  
"_I_ broke your hand?! _I_ broke your hand?!? _You're _the one who fucking punched me!"  
He went crosseyed, trying to look at his nose.  
He wiggled his nose, trying to see if it was broken or not.  
I couldn't help but laugh at his face;  
"What are you laughing at?!"  
I held my breath, trying to stop;  
"You! You look like a crosseyed rabit!!"  
He looked at me like I was stupid;  
"You're crazy. But my nose isn't broken. Is that as hard as you can hit?"  
I stopped laughing and looked at him;  
"What's that supposed to mean?!"  
He smirked;  
"Well, that was a really weak punch. As expected from a prep."  
I glared at him;  
"F.Y.I, I just held my fist there waiting for your nose the come into contact with my fist. I didn't even swing. . ."  
He smiled and leaned down to eye level with me;  
"If that's so, then how come your knuckles are broke? If you hadn't of swung, then your hand would be fine and you wouldn't be holding back tears right now."  
I gaped at him;  
"Well, you see. . ."  
He stood straight up;  
"Exactly."  
He walked past me and into the cafeteria. I looked after him.


End file.
